Prisoner
by carryonmy-waywardson
Summary: AU; Dean is locked up, and Sam is his prison guard.


**Pairing: **Sam/Dean.  
><strong>Description: <strong>AU; Dean Winchester is in prison for robbing a bank and is suspected of killing a man, and Sam Parker is the prison guard appointed to keep him in line.  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>minor "police" brutality, choking, slight bondage, sub/dom.

* * *

><p>"Parker." The low voice made Sam stop in his tracks, his hands still, the last button of his shirt caught between his fingers. The man the voice belonged to was his supervisor, Clark, and Sam turned to look at him. Clark was a lot shorter than Sam, so he had to drop his chin toward his chest just to look at the man, but that didn't mean Sam felt invincible standing near him. His head tipped toward Clark, and Sam smiled brightly at him - something he'd learned to do the first two weeks of working there.<p>

"What's up, boss?" Sam chuckled as he fastened the last button of his shirt and straightened his collar up, his hands moving to his belt after it was fixed. Clark quirked a brow at him and shook his head, sighing heavily as he took a step toward Sam.

"I transferred you to Cell Block E, but I want you to keep a good eye on one specific prisoner," Clark paused, stopping just inches away from Sam, and held out a manila folder. "Here's everything on him, and I _suggest_ you give it a once over before you go anywhere near him." Sam nodded as his supervisor spoke and clasped his fingers around the folder, taking it from Clark. He watched as the shorter man nodded and turned, walking out of the room. When his footsteps died away, Sam turned his attention to the folder in his hands.

He read the name on the from of the folder - _Winchester, Dean A_. - and quirked a brow before sitting on a bench between the rows of lockers he'd been dressing near. Sighing, Sam flipped the folder open and allowed his eyes to scan along the first page, complete with a picture of the prisoner, along with his stats. Sam shook his head as he flipped the page and read the arresting officer's report.

Dean Winchester was arrested on May 9th of that year, following a string of bank robberies and a murder, both of which he was a suspect for. The further along Sam read, the more calm he felt about watching over the prisoner, and he closed the folder when he was done, shoving it into his open locker. Sighing again, Sam grabbed the rest of his uniform out of the locker - the belt that held everything he needed, his shoes, and his nightstick - and laid it all on the bench.

"I heard you got told to keep an eye on the new kid." The words came from the door and Sam looked up, his eyes locking on his co-worker, Bobby. Sam nodded slowly and laughed, standing before grabbing his belt and wrapping it around his waist. "I also heard that he's wanted for killin' a man," Bobby pushed off the door frame and began unbuttoning his shirt, closing in on Sam.

"Wanted for it, yeah, but I don't think he did it. Police report says when they found him, after the murder and the last robbery, he was clean; no blood, no weapon, nothing on him except for the cash." Sam shrugged as he buckled his belt and made sure it was snug, before grabbing his nightstick and shoving it into its place. "Besides, I can handle him," he touched his gun and baton, grinning at Bobby before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Just be careful, I heard that he's pretty violent, and no one wants to see that pretty face of yours get scratched." Bobby's laugh filled the room and Sam chuckled with him, shaking his head as he walked past his co-worker, patting him on the shoulder. Before he left the room, Sam stopped and clocked in, shoving his time slip back into its place before opening the door.

Sam walked down the hall with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, while he watched what went on beyond the windows. The main foyer was empty, save for a few guards standing around, their batons in hand, and their heads tilted back, their eyes probably scouring the cells above the floor. Chuckling, Sam turned right and walked down a narrow corridor, until he got to a door, which he went through quickly.

As he walked, Sam listened to other guards talk on his hand-held radio, and whistled, walking toward a flight of stairs. Even though he was relatively new to the prison, it hadn't taken Sam long to learn the ins and outs of the place; nor did it take him long to memorize the blueprints of the building. So, he wasted no time running up the stairs - taking two at a time - and taking a left through another door at the top of the staircase.

The door lead him onto a long corridor, with cells on either side, and he immediately pulled his nightstick from its holster. Twirling it in his hand slightly, he walked down the hall, his eyes moving between the occupied cells. Most of the prisoners were asleep, or laying on the bed, their hands under their head, but when Sam stopped in front of one, he noticed the occupant was sitting on the edge of the bed. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped closer and peered into the cell, watching the dark figure turn, a pair of hazel eyes shining in the bit of light that crept through the window.

"Winchester, I assume?" Sam smirked as he slipped his baton back into its holster, his hands wrapping around the bars. "Well, I'm Sam Parker and I've been assigned to watch over you, and make sure you don't do anything stupid." The prisoner kept still for a moment before he stood and walked toward the bars, his face completely illuminated in the light from the hall.

When Sam first saw Dean, he licked his lips absentmindedly and gripped the bars tighter. The prisoner looked _nothing _like his mugshot that was in his folder, and Sam looked at him carefully. Dean had dark red, almost reddish brown, stubble covering his jaw and his cheeks, some of it covering his throat. His hazel eyes burned under the light, and his dark brown hair was trimmed short, and slightly messy. Swallowing hard, Sam backed away a bit and crossed his arms over his chest.

"They sent _you_ to make sure that I don't do anything stupid? C'mon, man, we both know I can take you." Dean grinned at Sam and wrapped his own hands around the bars, his face inches away from them. Rolling his eyes, Sam moved his hands around to his side, popping a button before pulling a .45 caliber pistol out, his fingers wrapped around the grip. He watched Dean's eyes go from him to the gun, and the grin fell from his face.

"You were saying?" Sam chuckled, turning the gun around in the light slowly, until Dean's eyes pulled away from it and locked on him again. "Now, we can make your time here _real _easy, Winchester," he muttered as he holstered his gun again and put his hands on his hips, his face serious, "or you can fuck up and give me a chance to use that or my baton on you, do you understand me?"

Dean's eyes narrowed and his lips curled back into a sneer as he nodded slowly, folding his arms and leaning against the bars. Smiling, Sam nodded back and watched the prisoner quietly, wondering why he was up so early, and why _he _had been given the only good looking prisoner in the whole damn place. "Breakfast isn't for another hour, so what are you doing up, Winchester?" Sam watched Dean's shoulders hitch and drop seconds later as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his forearms.

"Can't sleep, was too excited about being a new guard's bitch." Dean chuckled and looked at Sam, winking before licking his lips slowly. A part of Sam wanted to grab him by the throat and shove him against the wall, maybe rough him up a bit with his baton, but another part of him _wanted _Dean, and that was the part that scared him. Sighing, Sam shook his head and ran a hand through his hair slowly, raking it back and out of of his forehead.

"So that's what you think you are to me? My bitch?" Sam's voice was serious as he dropped his hand back to his hip, hooking his thumb under his belt. He watched Dean nod and bite his bottom lip - which only made Sam want him more - before pushing away from the bars. His hands were spread and outstretched, a grin on his face.

"Well, you're the one with the whips, chains and that pretty little club right there," Dean pointed to the baton that lay against Sam's thigh and he looked down, running his hand over it. When he looked back up, Dean's arms were crossed over his chest, and his head was cocked to the side. "Besides, you seem like a hard ass and you're _already _treating me like your fucking bitch." The prisoner chuckled and turned away from Sam, dropping back onto his bed, laying on his back.

"I'll be back to get you when breakfast time rolls around." Sam watched Dean wave before he turned toward the end of the hall and walked toward the door, his eyes surveying the rest of the cells, before disappearing through the door, leaving the prisoners - specifically _Dean_- alone with their thoughts. The entire way down the second part of the E block, Sam couldn't get Dean out of his mind; the way he licked his lips and bit the bottom one, or the way he grinned at him.

An hour later, Sam went back to Dean's cell and grabbed his keys, jingling them a bit, watching the prisoner's head snap up, their eyes locking for a moment. Grinning, Sam unlocked his cell and pushed the door back, taking a step into the cell, just as Dean sat up. In his other hand, Sam held leg and arm irons, and he motioned for the prisoner to stand. Dean obeyed and stood inches away from Sam, his body completely still as Sam knelt and clamped the cuffs around his ankles. When he stood, Sam flashed a smile at Dean and took his wrists in his hands, cuffing them quickly before grabbing the middle of the chain.

"C'mon, get your ass moving Winchester.." Sam mumbled as he backed out of the cell and into the hallway, most of the other cells along the corridor being empty. The last one to get taken to the cafeteria was Dean, and Sam had wanted to wait until most of the other prisoners were gone before taking him down. Dean walked into the hallway and stopped, as ordered by Sam, while he closed the door to his cell.

"You got a wife, Parker?" Dean asked, feeling Sam's hand wrap around his bicep before yanking him forward. He staggered a bit, almost falling before catching himself and straightening up, walking in time with the guard. "No, I don't have a wife, but why does that matter to you?" The two of them walked toward the door and Sam listened to Dean chuckle.

"Just askin' a friendly question, man.." Dean sighed and kept his mouth shut the entire way through the halls, until they got to the cafeteria. When they walked through the doors, Sam stooped and unlocked the cuffs around Dean's ankles before pulling them away and off.

"You're free to roam about, Winchester." Sam folded the cuffs and hooked his fingers through them, smiling at Dean. When the prisoner walked away, Sam leaned against the wall and watched the room, moving his gaze back to Dean every few minutes. When everything was calm, and he had Dean in his line of vision, Sam turned to talk to a few of the other guards that were keeping watch of the room.

The room was mostly quiet for fifteen minutes, the only noises being the sound of a few prisoner's whispers, the sound as their chairs slid across the floor, and the jingle of chains. Sam thought that everything was fine until he looked at where he _thought _Dean was, and realized that he wasn't there. Panic took over and Sam grabbed his baton, walking further into the room, his eyes roaming until he saw Dean standing in front of another prisoner.

Sam started running toward them, but got there too late; by the time he stopped beside Dean, both he and the other prisoner were throwing punches. Another guard stepped in and held the bigger prisoner back, while Sam attempted to grab a hold of Dean. When that didn't work, he hit the back of Dean's thigh with the baton, and shoved his foot against the back of his knee, sending him falling to the ground. Before Dean could try and get up, Sam hovered over him, grabbing the collar of his jumpsuit, bringing the end of his baton just under the prisoner's chin.

"I told you I'd use it on you if you fucked up, but you didn't listen, did you?" Sam's face was inches from Dean's, and he watched the inmate close his eyes, listening to him chuckle softly. Shaking his head, Sam yanked Dean off the ground, keeping the baton pressed against his chin, his hand still wrapped around the collar of his jumpsuit. "You just earned two weeks in solitary, Winchester," he chuckled lightly before pulling the nightstick away from Dean's chin, shoving it back into its holster and pulling Dean toward the door.

He didn't bother to put leg restraints on Dean, and he half-dragged him down the hall and around the corner, grumbling at the inmate for being slow. Whenever Dean would open his mouth to speak, Sam would yank him forward again, and a few times Dean fell onto the ground, sprawling out. The two of them managed to make it to solitary confinement without any major bumps or scratches, and Sam opened the door to a cell at the end of the block.

"Have fun, Winchester." Sam grinned as he pulled Dean into the dark cell, unlocking his cuffs before walking out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He opened the window and chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I'll see you in two weeks." Sam shut the window and locked the cell quickly before walking back down the hall, listening to the sound of his boots echo through the halls.

When he got to the end of the block, Sam turned around and looked toward the cell he'd thrown Dean into and grinned, silently wishing him hell. Turning back, he walked through the halls again and back to the cafeteria, where the inmates were being led out and back to their cells.

The rest of the day went without anymore incidents, or further thoughts of Dean, and Sam left the prison shortly after four that afternoon. On his way home, Sam allowed himself to think about Dean; to think about those hazel eyes, that reddish brown scruff, and those _beautiful _lips. When he got home, he walked into the house and kicked his boots off, shedding his flannel shirt and his pants. He dropped his clothes into a pile at the door and walked through the living room and toward the kitchen.

Minutes later, Sam was sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand, and his head leaned back against the back of the couch, his eyes shut tightly. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand along his jaw and scratched it lightly, his mind filled with thoughts of Dean. Sam knew that it was wrong for him to be thinking of a prisoner the way he was, but he couldn't help but think about what those lips of Dean's would look like wrapped around his cock. He couldn't stop himself from wondering how good of a cocksucker Dean was, or if he'd ever done it at all.

All of those thoughts went from Sam's brain, straight to his cock and he found himself moving a hand to the front of his boxers. He wasn't hard yet, but he palmed his hand against his cock, moaning lightly at the feel of the soft cotton moving against him. Swallowing hard, Sam tipped his head forward and leaned in, setting his beer on the coffee table before shifting on the couch. He stretched one leg across the length of the couch, while spreading the other out on the floor a bit.

Sam took in a shaky breath and leaned against the arm of the couch, his hand moving under the waistband of his boxers. As he moved his fingers against his cock, Sam thought about Dean on top of him, his fingers digging into his sides as he rode him, and he whimpered lightly. Swallowing hard, he ran his fingers up and down the underside of his shaft slowly, moving his free hand up and under his shirt.

The more he thought about Dean riding him, the harder Sam got, and the more he wanted the inmate. He wanted to grip his hips roughly and slam his hips down against him, feeling Dean's muscles clench around his cock, getting him closer to coming. Moaning, Sam threw his head back and gripped the base of his cock, stroking up slowly and bucking his hips toward his hand. As he stroked himself, Sam dug his nails into his stomach and dragged them up, arching his back as he gripped his cock tightly.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Sam stroked himself faster, his breathing growing heavy and his nails dragging up and down his stomach to his thighs. As he jacked off, Sam thought about things that he'd _never _thought about before; bending someone - in this case, Dean - over and pressing his baton against their throat, holding their head back. The thought only made him stroke his cock harder, his back arching off the couch completely as he let out a loud moan.

His body was hot, and his cock throbbed more with each stroke of his hand, and Sam swallowed hard, fucking his open hand as roughly as possibly. Another thought of Dean crossed his mind and Sam let go; stroking himself until he came, hard, shooting ropes of come all over his hand and his boxers. Breathing hard, he collapsed against the couch and turned his head toward the back cushions, licking his lips slowly.

Sam pulled his hand away and listened to the slight _snap_ of his waistband hitting his skin and smiled softly. When his breathing returned to normal, Sam pushed himself off of the couch and wiped his hand on the shirt he was wearing before pulling it off. Sighing, he walked around the couch and to the kitchen, making his way to a room just inside of the kitchen. He walked through the door and opened the washer, tossing the soiled shirt in before removing his boxers, tossing those in with the shirt, before shutting the machine.

***Two weeks later.***

Sam walked down the solitary block, the sound of his boots the only noise in the entire hall. He walked with his head held high, a smile on his face, and his hands shoved into his pockets. When he got closer to the end - where Dean was at - Sam started whistling softly to himself, stopping in front of a cell and grabbing his keys. The smile on his face grew into a grin as he unlocked the door and opened it slowly, backing further into the hallway.

Bright light flooded the room and Dean's head turned up toward it, giving Sam full view of his face. Swallowing hard, Sam walked into the room, completely ignoring the fact that Dean had grown almost a full-fucking-beard in the past two weeks, and knelt next to him.

"Morning, sunshine," Sam said with a grin as he reached out to pat Dean's shoulder, a chuckle escaping from his lips. "You're looking well, are you feeling well?" He tipped his head to the side, his eyes locked on Dean, watching as his lips turned into a grin that mirrored his own. The inmate nodded and shoved himself away from the floor, sitting against the wall with his legs crossed.

"Better now that I'm able to see your pretty face, Parker." Dean's grin grew wider and he lifted a hand, scratching at his stubble, his eyes still locked on Sam's. Smiling, Sam nodded and stood, moving his hand to the back of his belt, grabbing a pair of long handcuffs. "Stand up, Winchester." Stepping back, he watched as Dean obeyed and scrambled to his feet, his arms already outstretched, waiting for Sam to cuff his wrists.

When the cuffs were on Dean, Sam pulled him out of the cell and into the hall, holding him against the wall as he shut the door and locked it. He turned to the inmate and smiled, pulling him down the hall and toward the door. The entire time, Dean allowed Sam to pull him along, watching the way his hair fell in front of his face when he moved his head quickly.

"Wait, wait, my cell is that way," Dean lifted a chained wrist and pointed down the hallway, after they exited the solitary block. Chuckling, Sam turned and quirked a brow, nodding his head slowly as he pulled Dean to the left, down another hallway. He didn't say a word as he pulled the inmate down to one of the unused wings of the prison - there had once been offices there, but now they were mostly used for storage - and he stopped in front of one.

"Stay," Sam let go of Dean's arm and grabbed his keys, fumbling with them until he found the right one and brought it to the doorknob. He shoved the key into the keyhole and turned it back and forth until the knob unlocked. Turning, Sam threw a grin at Dean before pushing the door open and sliding his hand along the wall beside the door, looking for the light switch. His fingers found it and he quickly flipped it up, his hand going back to Dean's bicep before pulling him into the room.

"On the cot," Sam tipped his head toward a small cot that lay against the wall before turning to the door again. He shut it quickly and locked it, pulling the blind down over the small window. When he turned around, Sam saw Dean laying on his back on the cot, his knees bent and his feet pressed against the thin mattress. Grinning, the guard walked forward, keys in hand, and dropped to his knees beside the cot, grabbing Dean's hands.

"What are you going to do to me, Parker?" Dean asked as he watched Sam unlock his cuffs and pull them away, dropping them to the floor along with his keys. When his eyes moved up, locking his own, the inmate swallowed hard and forced himself to smile. In the back of his mind, Dean wondered what Sam was going to do; for all he knew, the guard was going to beat the shit out of him, or worse, kill him.

"Something I want, and I _know_ you want.." Sam purred the words out as he stood up, his hands going to his belt. He undid it and dropped it behind him, kicking it back until he heard it thud against the wall. Dean sat up on the cot and leaned over, his elbows resting against his knees and his eyes on the guard in front of him. Smiling, Sam leaned down and pressed his lips against the inmate's, his hands moving to his shirt.

Dean sat still for a moment, his lips slack against Sam's before he understood what was going on and he sighed, closing his eyes as he moved his mouth against Sam's. As the guard unbuttoned his shirt, Dean moved his hands to his hair, taking two handfuls and tugging it, pulling Sam closer. Moaning, Sam bit the inmate's bottom lip and pulled back, panting slightly as he stood, pulling his shirt open and off, letting it drop onto the floor.

"You know how to suck cock, Winchester?" Sam's voice was low and rough as he moved his hands down, hooking his thumbs behind the button to his pants. He watched Dean nod his head and lick his lips slowly, a smile taking over his own face as he popped the button to his khakis. When the button was undone, Sam undid the zipper and began tugging his pants down slowly, followed by his boxers. Pulling them down around his knees, the guard took a step back and grinned at Dean, tipping his head toward the floor. "Get on your knees and show me, then."

Dean sucked in a deep breath and chewed his bottom lip, sinking to his knees in front of Sam. He broke their gaze and allowed his eyes to move down, settling on the guard's already half-hard cock. Moaning, Dean grabbed the base and began stroking up and down slowly, his lips inches away from the head. Sam could feel Dean's breath falling against his cock and he sighed softly, moving one of his hands to the back of the inmate's head. His fingers tangled in the short, messy locks and Sam tilted his head to the side a bit, watching as Dean got closer to his cock.

"That's it, wrap those pretty little lips around my cock.." Sam almost moaned the words out as he watched Dean open his mouth, his head tilting up slightly, tongue hanging out of his mouth. The sight _alone_ made Sam want to slam Dean against the wall and fuck him like there was no tomorrow, but he refrained. Instead, he watched, and _felt_, Dean flatten his tongue against the head of his cock, and he groaned loudly.

Then Dean's lips wrapped around the head and Sam's eyes snapped shut, his breath hitching in his throat. He could feel Dean smiling against his cock and he huffed out a small chuckle, gripping the inmate's hair harder, holding him in place. Grinning, Sam moved his free hand to Dean's jaw and cupped it lightly, running his thumb along his cheek slowly. "Open your mouth wider, Dean."

Dean obliged and opened his mouth as wide as possible, closing his eyes as he wrapped his hands around Sam's legs. The guard gripped Dean's jaw and hair tighter, inching his cock into the inmate's mouth slowly. At first, Dean gagged but he relaxed his throat, allowing the full length - or _most_ of - Sam's cock into his mouth. He moaned against it and gripped the guard's calves tightly, his nails digging into the flesh.

"Oh _fuck,_" Sam moaned out as he began fucking Dean's mouth slowly, feeling his tongue slide along the underside of his cock. Shivering slightly, he pulled the inmate's head forward, forcing his cock down his throat and listening to Dean gag slightly. Chuckling, Sam pulled himself from Dean's mouth and left just the head of his cock between his lips, dropping his hand away from the prisoner's jaw. Chewing on his bottom lip, Sam looked down at Dean and grinned, pulling away completely.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Winchester?" Sam muttered, working his way out of his boots and his pants, kicking them all away when they were off. The whole time he watched Dean carefully, watching as he looked from his eyes to the floor, and back again. A part of Sam knew that he should probably give up and accept defeat, but another part of him didn't care, and that was the side that was more dominant.

"I… uh, Parker.." Dean stammered as he watched Sam remove his undershirt and toss it onto the floor, his hands sliding down his stomach slowly. The inmate's eyes were locked on the guard's perfect tanned, smooth stomach, and he swallowed at the lump in his throat, feeling himself grow hard against his jumpsuit. Chewing on his lip, Dean stood up and wrapped his hands around Sam's hips, pulling him closer and kissing him slowly.

Sam moaned against Dean's lips and closed his eyes, moving his hands to the front of his jumpsuit, tugging the zipper down slowly. As they kissed, the guard slipped his hands into the opening and wrapped his own hands around Dean's ribcage, giving it a light squeeze. Yelping, Dean closed his eyes and bit Sam's tongue lightly, causing him to groan and slide his hands down further, cupping his sides.

Pressing his tongue against Dean's, Sam shoved him backwards until he lost his footing and fell onto the cot, breaking the kiss. The guard grinned and watched as Dean pulled his orange jumpsuit away from his body, yanking it down his legs and pulling it off, along with his shoes. Their clothes were thrown into a pile, save for Dean's boxers, and Sam watched the inmate pull those off, too, tossing them to the floor.

Sam bent down and grabbed his pants, rummaging through the pockets quickly before tossing them back into their place. When he straightened up, he held a small bottle of lubricant and a condom, a grin on his face. Dean swallowed hard and watched the guard walk forward, motioning for him to stand, with his other hand. Obeying, the inmate stood beside the cot and watched Sam sit down on the middle, leaning back against the wall.

"Bend over and stick that ass out for me, Winchester.." Sam muttered the demand as he popped the bottle of lubricant open and poured some on his fingers, watching as Dean stood in front of him. Biting his lip, he watched as the inmate bend over, his back arched slightly and his ass in perfect view for Sam. With a smile, the guard leaned forward and pressed two slick fingers against Dean's opening and pushed them in slowly, his free hand on the inmate's hip.

"Ah—_fuck, Parker_!" Dean almost screamed out, barring his teeth as he felt Sam's fingers slip into him further. Behind him, the guard was grinning slightly, spreading Dean's ass cheeks open with his other hand, his fingers sliding into the inmate slowly. Swallowing hard, Dean dropped his head and shut his eyes tightly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as the digits were in him as far as they would go.

"You," Sam whispered, separating his fingers slowly as he leaned in, biting Dean's tailbone gently, "can call me _sir,_and sir only, do you understand?" He kept scissoring his fingers, listening to the inmate yelp and whimper, smiling against his skin. "I can't hear you…" Sam moved to Dean's hip and bit it, pulling his fingers out slowly, only to shove them back in as hard as possible.

"Fucking hell!" Dean screamed this time, his voice echoing in the room as Sam shoved his fingers into him, without warning. He listened to the guard chuckle and breathed heavily, turning to look over his shoulder. All he could see was a mop of dark brown hair spilling over his lower back and he chewed his bottom lip. "Yes, sir," he whispered, closing his eyes again, gripping his knees tightly.

"Better," Sam mumbled against Dean's skin before biting it harder than before, leaving teeth marks and pulling away, his fingers sliding out of the inmate's ass. When they were completely out, he grabbed the bottle of lube and the condom, tearing the package open before slipping the latex over his cock. After making sure it was snug, Sam opened the lube again and drizzled some on his cock, rubbing it in slowly.

"Now, ride me." Sam's voice was louder than before, and Dean listened to the snap of the bottle as it closed and winced slightly. His insides hurt from the guard's intrusion, but he still turned, albeit reluctantly. Swallowing hard, Dean moved to straddle Sam, watching as he leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing the handcuffs, a grin on his face. Dean opened his mouth to ask what the handcuffs were for, but he snapped his lips shut and climbed onto Sam's lap, sitting inches away from his cock.

"Gimme your hands." Dean obeyed, yet again, and didn't say a word; just let Sam slap the cuffs around his wrist, before weaving the chain behind his back. The inmate could feel cold metal encircling both of his wrists, and he balls his fists up, pressing them against his lower back. He could feel Sam's hands wrap around his hips, and he felt himself being pulled forward. Dean allowed himself to be dragged further up Sam's legs, so that their cocks were touching, and he shivered.

Without being told, the inmate lifted his hips and bent one leg, pressing his foot against the bed for leverage as he settled himself over Sam's cock. He lowered himself and flt the head of the guard's cock pressing against his ass, causing him to moan out and shiver. Closing his eyes, Dean allowed Sam to guide him further down onto his cock and ground down on his lower lip. As he took the last few inches of Sam's cock, Dean moved his hands down and grabbed his calve, digging his nails into it roughly.

"Fuck, ow… _god damnit!_" Dean mumbled as Sam thrust into him all the way, his cock hitting the inmate's prostate. Shuddering, Dean leaned back and felt one of Sam's hands move from his hips, and feeling his arms being pulled back a second later. Moaning out, he arched his back and moved his hips against Sam slowly, listening to him moan and breathe heavily.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut," Sam growled out as he held Dean in place, thrusting into him roughly. Disobeying orders, Dean threw his head back further and let out a loud moan, borderline screaming, until Sam moved his hand from the cuffs to the inmate's throat. He didn't squeeze it hard enough to _hurt_ Dean, just hard enough to make him be quiet as he fucked him harder, feeling sweat pour down his face.

"You like getting fucked, don't you, Winchester?" Sam moaned the words out as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Dean's collarbone, breathing heavily against it before biting it. All Dean could do was nod and whimper the best he could, moving his hips against the guard's, feeling his cock throb against his lower stomach. Chuckling, Sam pulled away and leaned back against the wall again, his fingers gripping Dean's throat, while the others dug into his hips. "Show me how badly you want it," he half-moaned, half-whispered, slamming his hips against Dean's, making him moan loudly.

"Fuck…" Dean's voice was muffled and he dropped his head forward, his chin resting against Sam's wrist. Swallowing hard, he began bouncing up and down, listening to the sound of his skin slapping against Sam's as the smell of sex and sweat filled the air. His entire body shuddered as he rode the guard, and all Dean wanted to do was stroke his cock as he got fucked. Whimpering, he pushed his hips toward Sam, whining loudly as he threw his head back again, sweat pouring down his throat.

"You want me to touch you, Dean?" Sam watched Dean nod the best he could and smiled, moving his hand from the inmate's throat, to his cock. When he grabbed the base, Sam felt Dean shudder against his body and he smiled, stroking his cock slowly. Swallowing hard, the inmate ground his hips roughly against Sam's, his breathing becoming heavier and more harsh than before.

"You gonna come for me?" Sam moaned out as he thrust up into Dean, feeling his own body shudder, signaling that he was getting closer to coming. Nodding, Dean moaned and slammed his hips down against Sam, listening to him moan loudly and feeling his nails dig into his skin, dragging up and down slowly. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's body, grasping the chain and pulling the inmate toward him.

He stroked Dean until he was whining and bucking his hips back and forth, licking his lips. Groaning, Sam tipped his head back against the wall and felt his body tingle, shivers passing down his spine. His balls tightened and Sam felt his cock throb inside of Dean, before he started coming; his orgasm hitting him hard and fast, momentarily knocking the breath out of him. Panting, Dean dug his nails into the palm of his hand, arching his back as he bucked his hips forward, feeling his own orgasm take over. As he came, the inmate screamed out loud, forgetting where they were and who surrounded them, but not caring in the moment.

Several minutes later, Sam pulled Dean off of his lap and laid him on the cot before standing up. When he was vertical, the guard pulled the condom off and tossed it into a trash can near the door, before bending down to grab his clothes. All the while, Dean lay on the cot on his side, panting heavily and licking his lips, trying to wrap his mind around what happened.

"That was fun, Winchester - you're an amazing fuck," Sam winked at Dean as he buttoned and zipped his pants, before bending down to grab his belt. The inmate chuckled and sat up, leaning over the edge of the cot, his hands still cuffed behind his back. Neither of them spoke as Sam continued getting dressed, straightening himself out before running his hands through his hair.

"So, I guess this means I really _am_ your bitch?" Dean mumbled, clearing his throat after speaking and listening to Sam chuckle. He watched the guard shake his head before walking forward, stopping to grab the keys off the floor. When he straightened up, Sam unlocked the cuffs and let them drop to the floor, smirking down at Dean. "I guess so, but no one can know, or else you'll be someone else's."

After the words were out, Sam grabbed Dean's clothes and tossed them onto his lap before turned toward the door. He unlocked it and walked out, shutting the door behind him before standing next to it, his back against the wall. Inhaling deeply, Sam closed his eyes and lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. He thought about what he had just done and the severity of his actions, and swallowed hard. Sam knew that if his supervisor found out that he had sex with a prisoner, that he'd be let go without a second of thought. Shrugging, Sam stood still and waited for Dean to come out, replaying what they'd done in his head. Who knows - maybe when Dean got out of jail they could be together, or even just be fuck buddies.

Sam chuckled at the thought and ran his hand over his face, rubbing his jaw lightly. _Yeah, right_, he thought just as the door opened and he turned, looking at Dean, who had the cuffs in his hands and a grin on his face. _Maybe? Who knows.._ Sam chuckled again and took the cuffs from Dean, slipping them on before pulling him down the hall.


End file.
